


looking like you need a kiss or a fight

by onakissgodknows



Category: Baseball RPF
Genre: Angst and Porn, Breathplay, Established Relationship, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Sort Of, Under-negotiated Kink, Unsafe Sex, see notes for anything else i thought was worth mentioning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-13
Updated: 2018-02-13
Packaged: 2019-03-17 16:29:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,030
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13662855
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/onakissgodknows/pseuds/onakissgodknows
Summary: They care about each other, that much is obvious, that much is something that everybody who watches them can see. Kyle had just thought – maybe they weren’t meant for this. Maybe their relationship should go back to being purely friendly and professional. That’s what he had said.Still, he fucked himself over, didn’t he, because there’s nothing that’s ever felt as comforting and right as Willson Contreras holding him.





	looking like you need a kiss or a fight

**Author's Note:**

> I was working on a longfic and then I took a break and wrote 4K of angsty porn. You're welcome/I'm sorry?
> 
> Title from "Times Square" by Emily Kinney.
> 
> This could probably be read as a sequel to my last Kyle/Willy piece but that is super not the author's intention, if that matters. This was mostly a challenge I set to myself which was "haha bet you can't write a Kyle/Willy fic that doesn't have a happy ending." I sure showed my inner self. 
> 
> Also, mentions of families in this, but this is also not meant to be read as if there's any infidelity happening, in my mind they're referring to parents and siblings, but you can read it however you want, of course. And yes, there are some extremely unhealthy sexual practices in this so let this serve as a reminder to please use protection and talk things out with your partner before you actually do them.

Kyle knocks on Willson’s door. He shouldn’t be here – he shouldn’t – and he should feel bad, and he does feel bad, he shouldn’t take advantage of Willson like this when they agreed they should stop, they have lives outside of each other and outside of baseball, and they can’t have this distracting them, but God, if _sometimes_ –

His brain shuts off when Willson answers the door. His eyebrows go up and he leans against the doorframe. “Hi.”

“Hi,” Kyle says shortly.

Willson sets his mouth in a straight line. “You okay?”

Willson has to know the answer to that. Kyle wouldn’t be here if he was okay. “No.”

It was a rough game today. Yeah, it’s only spring training, but Kyle just didn’t have it. His velocity is down, his pitches weren’t moving the way they should, and he’s scared. He’s scared it’ll be like last year, when he lost what felt like half a season to his hand injury.

He should take this up with the pitching coach, or the trainers, or even the manager, get some reassurance from the people who are paid to make sure he’s playing his best, but he doesn’t want to do that. He’s afraid of getting bad news, and he doesn’t want to hear it. He wants –

Willson grabs his right hand gently and pulls him inside. “Come sit down.”

Kyle lets Willson lead him in and they sit down on the couch. Willson’s renting this place in Scottsdale during spring training and Kyle knows his family has been staying with him for some of the time, but they aren’t here now, which is great news for Kyle because he needs Willson. It’s selfish; he knows that. Maybe he can set aside selfishness later, after he gets past what happened today.

Willson’s still holding his hand, rubbing gently. “It doesn’t hurt, does it?”

Kyle shakes his head. “No. Thank God.”

“So.” Willson keeps holding his hand, and with his other hand runs his fingers up Kyle’s wrist to his elbow and back down. “It’s still early, Kyle. We got time to fix it.”

He’s right. The season is still weeks away from starting. Whatever went wrong today probably won’t have much effect on how he does once they’re playing games that matter.

Logically, Kyle knows this. Kyle fights so hard to stay logical and objective about things like this, the fact that he’s probably fine, the fact that the team is going to be better than ever this year, the fact that there’s a good reason he ended it with Willy.

Whatever “it” was in the first place. If “it” was anything at all.

Willson keeps stroking his fingertips up and down his arm, feather light, like he’s afraid to touch him now. Kyle tightens his hand in Willson’s. Willson pauses, meets Kyle’s eyes questioningly. He’s waiting for Kyle to tell him what he needs.

Kyle leans in and kisses him. Willson lets out a sigh and kisses him back gently, chastely. Kyle parts his lips and puts his hand on Willson’s face to deepen the kiss –

“Kyle.” Willson turns his head away. “You said – “

Kyle drops his head to Willson’s shoulder so he doesn’t have to meet his eyes. “I know what I said.” Guilt eats at him from the inside out. He should go. He should get over himself and get ready for his next start in five days, a week, whatever they decide, because it’s fucking spring training and who _cares_.

“You said we should stop,” Willson continues doggedly, and there’s something accusatory in his voice. He has every right to be accusatory. They’ve been fooling around since the end of 2016, and at first it was like why _wouldn’t_ this happen right after they win the World Series and then they kept it up into spring training last year and it was _just for fun_ and _not that serious_ , and then Kyle started getting bad and it turned into something else.

They care about each other, that much is obvious, that much is something that everybody who watches them can see. Kyle had just thought – maybe they weren’t meant for this. Maybe their relationship should go back to being purely friendly and professional. That’s what he had said.

Still, he fucked himself over, didn’t he, because there’s nothing that’s ever felt as comforting and right as Willson Contreras holding him.

“I did say that,” Kyle says, and maybe he means it. Maybe he needs to think about this more. Maybe he shouldn’t make Willson suffer for something he can’t figure out himself.

“So what are you doing now?” Willson demands, and the irritation in his voice hurts.

“Willy,” Kyle says, his voice cracking a little. “Please. I need – “

Willson moves his hands up and down Kyle’s back, rucking up his t-shirt a little bit. “You know I always got you.”

Kyle lifts his head and kisses him again, tentatively, letting him take the lead. Willson’s more than willing to reciprocate, it seems, because he bites at Kyle’s lower lip then pushes his tongue into his mouth, and Kyle lets out a soft moan.

They spend a few minutes on the couch making out, and Willson seems a little nervous, and Kyle is a little nervous, like this is the first time they’ve done this – far from it, but it’s the first time since they’re supposed to have stopped.

(Willson had agreed, back when Kyle said they should quit this, but he could tell even then Willy wasn’t happy about it.)

Willson tugs Kyle’s lower lip with his teeth before standing up. “Come on,” he says, and pulls Kyle into the bedroom.

Kyle pulls off his shirt as soon as Willson kicks the door shut, and he grabs Willson by the waistband and tugs him close. Willson’s hands go to Kyle’s waist, fingers tightening on his bare skin as they kiss.

Willson’s barefoot, only wearing shorts and a t-shirt (because shit, even winters in Arizona get hot), and Kyle wants – he doesn’t know what he wants. He wants Willson’s clothes off, for one thing. He knows Willy’s been mad at him; maybe he wishes Willson would just _take_ what he wants. He wants to be on his knees with Willson’s dick down his throat, gagging on it, his face wet with tears and saliva – he wants Willson to press him into the mattress, hold him down – he wants –

He pulls at Willson’s t-shirt, trying to undress him without having to stop kissing him. Willson yanks his shirt off and Kyle unbuttons his shorts, shoves them down – drops to his knees –

“Kyle,” Willson says again, quickly, and there’s a question in his voice, an _are you sure?_ tone, _is this what you want_?

Willson’s half-hard in his black briefs. Kyle leans in and mouths at him through the soft cotton, and Willson makes a noise that sounds like a moan that he tries to turn into a cough. “Please,” Kyle says.

Willson shoves his underwear down, freeing his dick – “Yeah – fuck, Kyle.”

Kyle gets his hand around him and jerks him quickly, in a perfunctory way – it’s too dry, so after a moment Kyle just wraps his lips around the head of his cock and takes him as deep as he can. He feels him stiffen in his mouth, and he hums as he starts bobbing his head up and down, letting his spit get Willson nice and slick. Willson sighs softly and puts a heavy, warm hand on the back of Kyle’s neck. “Yeah,” he mutters. “Like that.”

Good. Kyle wants him to feel good. He flicks his tongue over his slit and is rewarded with Willson’s breath catching in his chest, his hips rolling forward, pushing himself deeper into Kyle’s mouth. Kyle moans around him, hoping he sounds encouraging, and wraps a hand tight around the base of Willson’s cock. He pulls off enough to suck on the tip and lifts his eyes to look up at Willson as he does.

Willson’s eyes are wide, his lips slightly parted, and he dampens them with his tongue as Kyle watches him. He tightens his hand on the back of Kyle’s neck, almost like he wants to shove him back down – he won’t, even though Kyle wants him to, maybe would if Kyle _asked_ him to – Kyle can’t ask him, though, so he drops his eyes and focuses on swallowing down as much as he can.

The head of Willson’s cock nudges the back of Kyle’s throat and he does gag a little, pulls off enough to catch his breath then goes back down, trying to open his throat enough that he won’t choke. He hollows his cheeks and _sucks_ , and Willson groans “ _god yeah_ ” and rolls his hips again, gently.

They get into a rhythm, Willson thrusting shallowly into Kyle’s mouth as Kyle works him with his hand. It’s quiet other than Willson’s soft grunts and the slick, wet noises Kyle’s mouth is making.

It’s -

It’s good, but it’s not enough. Kyle’s hard, and he presses a hand to the front of his jeans, desperate for just a little bit of friction, something –

Willson taps on the back of Kyle’s head. “Hey.”

Kyle pulls off with a wet, obscene sound that might have made him cringe had he not done this with Willson countless times before. There’s spit and precome dripping down his chin, and he wipes it with the back of his hand. “What do you want?” Kyle asks him breathlessly. “What do you need, anything – I want – “

Willson grabs him by the arm and hauls him to his feet, leans up and kisses him, his tongue dipping into Kyle’s mouth. “Can I fuck you?”

“God, yeah, please,” Kyle says. He wants it bad, he doesn’t know why – doesn’t know if he’s just upset about how his start today went, doesn’t know if he’s trying to chase away fear like this season will end up like last season (yeah, he only missed about a month but how effective was he before the DL? Not very, that’s how), doesn’t know if he’s just missing Willson and mad at himself for ending it.

Whatever the reason, he’d really like Willson to fuck him until he can’t think.

Willson pushes Kyle onto the bed and tugs his jeans and underwear off so they’re both naked. He pulls one of Kyle’s legs over his shoulder and presses his lips to the inside of his knee. He scrapes his teeth down Kyle’s inner thigh, making him wince, then licks the same spot, soothing it.

“Come here,” Kyle says, and Willson leans down and kisses him hard, maybe hard enough to bruise. Their teeth clack together and drag over lips, and Kyle groans when Willson’s thigh presses against his cock. Willson reaches for the drawer next to the bed, fumbling until he comes up with a small bottle of lube and flicks it open. He kneels up between Kyle’s legs, pushes his thighs apart, and pours a bunch of it onto his fingers. Lube drips onto Kyle’s leg and the mattress and before, Kyle might have reprimanded him for being messy, but – who cares.

Willson presses his broad fingers against his hole, working one inside, and God, it’s – it’s perfect, and not enough.

Willson works him slowly, deliberately. He has two slick fingers in him now, stretching and pressing into him, and just missing the spot Kyle needs him to hit.

Kyle arches his back and grabs at his own cock, because somebody has to. “Come on,” he says through gritted teeth.

Willson swats his hand away from his cock. “You wait,” he admonishes.

“Come on,” Kyle whines, collapsing against the bed. His pace is glacial; Kyle can’t get off like this, but then again, Willson’s not really trying to get him off. Yet.

Since when does Willson like to take his time? Gentle, yes, always; slow, no, never. But, Kyle had asked him what he wanted, and if what he wants is to spend the weekend opening Kyle up before he even fucks him, well then. Kyle sets his jaw and closes his eyes as Willson’s lips trace over his torso while his fingers stroke into him.

He’s squirming and whimpering underneath him by the time Willson finally pulls his fingers away. Willson leans down and presses a kiss to Kyle’s hip, then licks his way up his stomach. “Come on,” he says, and rolls onto his back. “Show me how you want it.”

Kyle scrambles into his lap, straddles his hips and reaches behind him to grasp his cock. He’s slick and bare and – they’ve gone without a condom before, but Kyle pauses. “Do you need….“

Willson shakes his head. “I don’t have one. I should’ve got – but I didn’t think you’d – “

Kyle hesitates. “I’m okay if you are.” It’s not the best idea, but he trusts Willson.

Willson nods. “It’s okay.”

Hey, at least now he knows Willson wasn’t planning on hooking up with anybody else during spring training. Not that he should care, but he does.

Willson grabs Kyle by the hips and guides him down until he’s fully seated, and Willson closes his eyes, mouth dropping open. “Shit, you’re tight.”

Kyle laughs breathlessly, balancing with his knees on either side of Willson’s hips. “It’s been awhile.”

Willson gives him a kind of half-grin, stroking his hands down Kyle’s thighs. “Want you to ride me. Show me what you want.”

What Kyle wants he isn’t sure he can say, but maybe he can show. He rocks his hips gently, starts off slow. He lets out a shaky breath, feeling the way Willson fills him so perfectly, stretching him enough that it hurts a little bit, in the best way, only because Kyle hasn’t gotten fucked since – well, since whenever the last time was that they did this. He puts out a hand to brace himself against Willson’s chest, and Willson’s hands tighten on his hips. “God,” Kyle chokes out, letting his eyes flutter shut then open again. He’s getting into a better rhythm now, grinding down onto him harder, and this, this is what he’s needed.

“Yeah,” pants Willson. There’s a bruise on his ribs that’s vaguely baseball-shaped, and Kyle’s pretty sure it’s from a bad pitch today that missed Willson’s glove and bounced off his chest protector. Kyle presses his fingers to it lightly, thinking later he’ll kiss it and apologize, because it is his fault – Willson shifts underneath him, sits up enough that he can get an arm around Kyle’s waist and drive his hips up into him.

“ _Oh_.” The new angle is hitting him _perfectly_ , and Kyle puts his hands on Willson’s shoulders, gripping them tight enough that maybe his fingers will leave indentations. He likes that idea; likes the idea that he could leave his mark behind on Willson even after he leaves.

Willson wraps one hand around Kyle’s cock, and Kyle practically yells, because Willson hasn’t touched him there at all and he needs it so fucking bad. “Yeah,” Willson whispers, thrusting up relentlessly and nuzzling into the crook of his neck. “Yeah, baby, you like that?” He bites at Kyle’s neck and Kyle moans.

Kyle’s legs ache from riding him like this; Willson’s thighs are broad ( _catcher’s thighs_ ) and Kyle should probably care that he’s going to feel this tomorrow more than he’s going to feel the forty-odd pitches he threw. He doesn’t care, though, not when this is the reason he’s going to ache.

Willson grabs him by the back of the head and pulls him in for a deep kiss, tongue in his mouth, swallowing the embarrassing desperate noises Kyle is making against him.

It’s almost enough. It’s almost everything he wants. Willson twists his wrist and jacks him harder, in time with his thrusts, and – almost. “Willy, please,” Kyle says before kissing him again, and he thinks maybe Willson didn’t even hear him. Which would be okay. Maybe he doesn’t need to give himself up this fully, especially when this is supposed to be over.

“You need more?” Willson whispers against the shell of his ear, and Kyle shudders.

“Please,” he whispers back, scarcely knowing what he’s asking for.

Willson gives Kyle a nudge. “On your back,” he says.

Kyle doesn’t like that moving means Willson isn’t inside him anymore and his hand isn’t on his cock anymore, but he does it, collapses on his back with his legs spread and knees bent. Willson gets between his legs, eyebrows furrowed in concentration, and thrusts back into him. Kyle groans and wraps his legs around Willson’s waist.

Willson goes slow again, which – why? Could he not be careful? Could he not act like he’s afraid Kyle might break all the time?

“Willy, harder. Please, you gotta fuck me.” He reaches up, pulling at Willson, tightening his legs around him, and he wishes Willson would shove his hands away and just go for it. Willson’s been mad at him, right? Get mad. Hold him down, do what he wants.

Willson picks up the pace, and yeah, okay, this is better. The room is full of the sound of skin slapping on skin and harsh breaths and Willson reaches down to smooth sweaty hair away from Kyle’s forehead. He leans down to kiss him roughly as he moves his hand down his face – his throat, fingers pressing lightly against his Adam’s apple, which makes Kyle cough in surprise – but also -  

“Shit, put your hand back.” Kyle’s heart is pounding, and Willson stops what he’s doing, confused.

“What?” Willson’s hand hovers above Kyle’s sternum. He’s looking down at Kyle, waiting for direction. “Where?”

Kyle grabs Willson’s hand and fits it around his throat. “Like that.”

“Kyle.” He sounds almost exasperated, but he doesn’t move his hand. He flexes his fingers experimentally and Kyle moans, closes his eyes, reaching down to grab his cock. “God, you like that, huh,” Willson mutters.

In Kyle’s defense, he didn’t know that until approximately thirty seconds ago.

“Shit, Kyle.” Willson sounds apprehensive, but he’s also wide-eyed, looking at his hand on Kyle’s throat, and Kyle thinks maybe he’s kind of into it. “Push me off if you have to, okay? Smack me or somethin’.”

Kyle nods, moving his hand up and down his own cock. “Don’t leave bruises either,” he says, and he wishes he didn’t have to say it, wishes they weren’t in the middle of spring training so Willson actually could bruise up his throat. Wishes it wouldn’t matter if anyone could see.

Willson nods and tightens his hand on Kyle’s throat, just a little, and reaches down to grab Kyle’s cock himself.

Willson’s palm is heavy and warm pressing against Kyle’s throat, but it’s his fingers that are tighter, squeezing, and Kyle’s sure Willson can feel his pulse pounding. Kyle can breathe, sure – it’s maybe a little more labored, but the pressure on his throat makes it seem so much harder than it actually is.

Willson starts fucking him again, and it’s a little harder and rougher, like Kyle’s given him permission to, now. His other hand jerks Kyle’s cock – there’s no rhythm, he isn’t bothering to make sure it lines up with his thrusts, but there’s something really good about that. Erratic and dirty. Kyle lifts his hips to meet Willson’s hand, Willson’s cock pounding into him and his grip on his throat – God, it isn’t that tight but it’s enough. Enough that Kyle has to gasp a little to get his breath, mouth open and head thrown back, pushing his neck up against Willson’s hand.

“Fuck,” Willson mutters, and he dips his head to trail kisses over Kyle’s collarbone, just under where his hand fits, biting gently here and there, little stinging explosions of pain across Kyle’s chest.

It’s so _much_.

“Fuck, I’m gonna – “ Willson warns him, and with another couple of thrusts Willson comes inside him, moaning and squeezing his throat a little tighter as he does, and Kyle sees fucking stars.

Willson’s hand is a vice on his dick and he’s jerking him harder and faster now, his hand still around his throat and his head tucked into the crook of his shoulder, murmuring words Kyle can’t quite hear or understand. It sounds dirty, though.

Even if it’s not, Willson leans in and bites at Kyle’s earlobe and squeezes his throat again, and that’s all it takes. He comes so hard his vision goes white, thick streaks of come ending up all over his stomach, and he’s shaking when he comes back down.

Willson gently releases his throat and Kyle coughs, bringing up a hand to rub at his neck. Willson runs his fingers through the jizz on Kyle’s stomach and pushes his fingers into his mouth, which is gross, but also filthy and hot, and Kyle licks his fingers clean.  

“You okay?” Willson asks, his lips still right next to Kyle’s ear.

Kyle nods. “Yeah.” He feels his face redden, and kind of hates that he feels embarrassed now, but what can you do. “Thanks,” he adds, a little sheepishly.

“I – uh, no problem,” Willson says, equally shy. “It was good.” He gently rubs the side of Kyle’s throat. “I tried to be gentle – it’s kind of red, though.”

Kyle shakes his head, sitting up. “I’d let you bruise me if we weren’t at spring training.”

Willson laughs for the first time since Kyle’s been here. “So like you want me to bruise you during the season?”

Kyle elbows him, laughing along with him. “You know what I mean.” He drags himself to his feet, unsure he’ll be able to stand. His legs are like jelly, but he manages. “Can I take a shower?”

“Yeah, go ahead.” Willson gets up too, already searching for clean clothes to get dressed.

Kyle goes into the bathroom and examines his throat while the water heats up. It’s red, like Willson said, with obvious fingerprints, but nothing that should bruise in any noticeable way. He’s sort of sorry, but it’s for the best.

Kyle showers quickly and comes out with a towel around his waist. Willson’s sitting cross-legged on the bed, waiting for him with a guarded expression. “Hey, I got family coming back tomorrow morning, so.”

So Kyle’s getting kicked out. “It’s cool,” Kyle says shortly. He drops the towel and gets dressed quickly, somehow feeling more exposed being naked in front of Willson now than he ever has before. “I wasn’t planning on staying.”

“Yeah, okay,” Willson mutters. “Well, you can’t anyway.”

Kyle’s t-shirt clings to his damp skin. “Wasn’t going to.”

“Good.”

“Good,” Kyle says back. It’s not mature, but Willson isn’t being mature.

Willson glares at him. “You can’t get mad at me.”

“Good thing I’m not, then.”

“I didn’t come over to your house beggin’ you to choke me after I said we were done.”

“That’s not what I did!” Kyle snaps. “But you seemed pretty into it too, so don’t get mad at _me_ either!”

Willson hops to his feet and walks over to him. He grazes his knuckles down Kyle’s jawline, and it takes everything in Kyle not to lean into his touch. “Look,” Willson says hesitantly. “You know I like you, and I like doing this – whatever this is with you. But you gotta make up your mind, okay?” He takes his hand away. “Don’t say we’re done and then come back over here expecting this.”

“I didn’t expect anything,” Kyle snarls. He doesn’t know why he’s so mad. Willson is right, but maybe that’s it. Maybe he doesn’t like people laying his flaws out for him to see.

Jesus, he’d ended this in hopes of not getting distracted on the field, but he doesn’t know how this is going to be anything but distracting.

“Yeah, you did,” Willson says. “It’s cool, though. Just don’t say it’s the last time if it’s not.” He smacks Kyle on the ass, like they’re on the mound and Willson’s about to jog back to home plate. “See you tomorrow.”

Kyle, dismissed, leaves the house, and he’s not upset about today’s game anymore (so that worked, he supposes), but now he has a whole new set of very complicated emotions to work through.

**Author's Note:**

> thanks for reading the filth, I'm going back to working on longfic now that I got this out of my system xoxo.
> 
> As always, you can find me on tumblr [here](https://on-a-kiss-god-knows.tumblr.com/).


End file.
